


Headache

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Series: Mac/Renny [4]
Category: Dark Visions - L. J. Smith
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-02
Updated: 2006-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John helps Renny deal with the after-effects of using the Crystal</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headache

**Author's Note:**

> Occurs about a month or so into the Experiment.

Renny had a headache. A bad one. A nail pierced his forehead, hitting dead-center and driving all the way to the back of his skull where it shattered the bone into a million tiny jagged edges that shredded the tender grey-pink ridges of his mind.

It was only his third time using a crystal, and every time the headaches after got worse. But he was getting stronger. Today, he was actually able to sustain a full minute of total control over the random event generator. The wavy green line shot straight up and stuck there, quivering, for what felt like an eternity as the energy poured out of him and into the machine. His fingers still ached from clenching the shard so tight, his palm lacerated from the sharp edges.

Renny rolled on his bed, trying to find a position of comfort. His fingers curled inwards, the blunt nails digging at the cuts, distracting him from the unrelenting waves of agony in his brain. The pain was centered in his head, but he could feel the echoes of it shuddering through his whole body. He writhed as a particularly intense wave struck.

The odd smell of smoke began to weave itself into Renny's consciousness, the dry odor quickly overwhelming him with its strength. He pushed his fist into his stomach, trying to fight off the stab of nausea as he rolled onto his side. He threw his face into the pillow, gasping against the cloth that smelled faintly like shampoo. He held his breath, wrapped in the smothering darkness.

It was no comfort and no sanctuary; the smoke followed him, the gritty feel of it everywhere. Renny lifted his head, his neck protested the movement, sending knots of tension down his shoulders and spine. He slowly opened his eyes, the lids stuttering and aching from being squeezed too tightly shut. He expected to see red-orange flames climbing the walls like blood, licking his skin, leaping for his throat, promising a slow, cruel end to the intolerable pain.

He saw cool grey eyes, shadowed by dark hair, glowing in the flare of a cigarette. John lowered his hand from his mouth, resting his wrist on the mattress near Renny's face. He could taste the heat, as though the flame were on his tongue, and his eyes leaked anguished tears as another roil of nauseous agony worked its way through his body. John was so close, kneeling by the bed, his face impassive as he watched Renny twist on the mattress.

The smoke flowed lazily from between John's lips, curling around his chin like a whipping dragon's tail. Without even a trace of emotion on his face, he reached out and touched Renny's cheek. He could feel every ridge and whorl of John's finger, the light touch leaving an imprint on his face, a bright burning mark that crept like acid through the layers of his skin down to the bone.

John brought his hand up to his mouth, running the tip of his finger over his bottom lip until it was shimmered in the darkness with Renny's tears.

Renny closed his eyes and buried his face back into the pillow, choking back a sob.

****

If he laid still, so still his chest didn't move, things would be all right. The pain would recede, and some kind of peace would settle over Renny's mind. But it lasted only seconds, until his lungs filled just enough to keep his heart beating, making his head throb. There was no way to escape it, not yet. If he couldn't sleep it off, then he'd have to wait until... until the next time.

Reluctantly, he moved to stand, letting his feet fall to the floor. The impact jarred his bones all the way to his teeth. The darkness barely lifted with his eyelids, and he had to turn his head to find any kind of light within the shadows of the room.

When had it gotten dark? How long had he been out?

A darker shadow painted with embers reclined in the window. Renny could almost taste the ash. It was a different kind of agony to force his body to move, like it'd been decades that his eyes were closed. The sill was covered in powdery darkness, like dirt that smudged under his fingers. The tiny grains, so smooth and warm, coated his skin. He didn't bother trying to get closer, just traced patterns in the shadows.

"How do you stand it?" The words hurt his cheeks, forced out of a mouth better left slack in a dead sleep right now.

A smoke cloud caught the moonlight, highlighting John's face in jagged sparks. It made him look angry, the glitter of dark eyes behind dark hair amidst a dark night. Was he in pain right now, too? His nostrils flared, stirring the fog around his face.

He lifted the cigarette again, pulling hard, breathing in and in until Renny was sure he'd suffocate from it. The burst of glowing amber across his face revealed that impassive, quiet gaze. The empty look. Like he really wasn't there at all.

Renny didn't even see the movement as John brought the cigarette down, just felt the sudden searingtearingbreaking pain that rocketed up his arm and straight into his brain. He gulped ashes as he gasped uselessly, his body forgetting for the moment how to breathe properly. Burning, he was burning...

Renny staggered back a step, his hand reflexively coming up to his chest as he grasped his own wrist. His eyes tore away from those glittery-grey shadowed eyes to look down at his hand.

A bright red spot tinged with brown blistered into existence on his right hand, on the fleshy part between thumb and forefinger. It was incredibly tiny compared to the sudden lightning flash of pain it had delivered. He was squeezing his own wrist, as though to keep himself from bleeding to death from the burn, or to keep the poison of the tobacco sting from flowing back through his body again. His heart was smacking against the cage of his ribs, and little starbursts exploded around the edges of his eyes.

Miraculously, Renny's headache was gone.

He could barely feel the echoes of the waves of pain curling along the edges of his mind, but it no longer felt like knives and glass were flowing through his veins, tearing apart his mind. The sharp points of pain were dulled and covered over with the slick molten metal from that solitary dot of fire. He felt... better. Energized.

Cautiously, Renny turned his wrist until he was pressing his forefinger into the wound. It crackled up his spine, not as liquid fast as before, but it helped. He hadn't quite realized he'd closed his eyes until he was opening them to the smoky shadows of the room to find John staring back at him, just as sullen and distant as before. His fingers were once again rolling around a new cigarette before bringing it to his lips.

"How...?"

John stretched out his arm, striking ash onto the sill beside his knee. The short sleeve of his shirt rode up, showing dark spots like bruises or leopard's print across his bicep.

The jagged edges of the headache crept over the back of Renny's mind. He pressed against the wound again, this time with purpose, with expectation. It helped a little, but already the effects weren't as good as that first time.

The glitter of John's eyes flickered down to Renny's hand, and this time he exhaled a slow, long ribbon of smoke that seemed to reach out to Renny with its promise. John tilted his head back, looking up at Renny through the shadows of his hair, and something between a smile and a sneer started to touch his lips. He licked his lower lip, his other hand absently flicking a spark from his lighter.

That odd twist of lips spoke of very bad, very wrong things to the most primitive part of Renny's mind. It evoked images that the rest of his brain was far too civilized to understand. It screamed at him to run, to get away.

That didn't explain why he wanted to step closer. Wanted it so much.

It was like stepping through mud as Renny finally willed his right foot to scoot backwards. He took another step back, and another, and another, his legs fighting his will until he could finally turn away from that hungry gaze. Stiffly, he walked back to his bed and laid down, his back still to John.

The distant throb of the headache clung to the horizon of his thoughts. Renny shoved the thumb of his left hand into the small burn wound, twisting until the liquid metal sensation drove it away.

Behind him, the soft rasp of burning paper called to him. Renny buried his face into his pillow until there was only the sound of his heartbeat.


End file.
